Tossing Ice: A Catching Fire Parody
by ava4ever
Summary: Ginger Root Lastingprofessor and French Bread Taylor might have already won the Thirsty Games before, but they're about to enter the arena again. Bringing along a local vegan, Gust Mulberry, and an ex-convict, Kcinnif O'Defy, Ginger and Frenchy fight for their lives once more in another epic tale.


The Thirsty Games 2: Tossing Ice

WARNING: READ THE FIRST THIRSTY GAMES… otherwise this makes absolutely no sense.

**Chapter 1:**

I press the icy cold tea to my cheek as I peer out at the sunny beach in front of me. No one is frolicking in the sand, and nor is it blown up. Nope. This beach is ours because we are last year's Thirsty Games' vanquishers. We had our pick of choice real estate afterward. Seeing that you had a propensity for beaches, you chose a luxurious home on the beach. I chose a modest home a few miles away in the mountains. I don't know what it is about our experiences, but something rubbed off on both of us and here we are, stretched out on lounge chairs in the refreshing sunlight.

Tonight, I am over for a visit. While your house is filled with your family, including your sister Dandelion, my house is mainly empty. My parents chose to stay in our old house rather than live in my large and lavish mountainside home. Granted, it doesn't have much of a yard, but the view is amazing.

After we came home from winning the Thirsty Games last year, we had reunited with our old friend Gust. He is the vegan of the community, spending all of his days picking herbs and mushrooms from the fields around our neighborhood. The problem is it's illegal to pick the Lower Cases' mushrooms. No one rats him out though. Without meat in his diet, the only thing available for him is the mushrooms, and no one likes watching a fellow neighbor starve. Only now Gust is eighteen, and has to support himself by working at the local Whole Foods, otherwise he'll never make it. But I don't know if he even could with all the mushrooms he eats.

So, in the spirit of our friendship with him, we have decided to support him with his veganism, despite the fact meat is nummy-ummy and we like to eat it up. After all, we wouldn't have made it through the Thirsty Games without the help of a certain squirrel and rabbit.

I finish my iced-tea and turn to you. "So what do you think? We should go give the shrooms to Gust shouldn't we?"

You grumble something from the comatose land relaxation has driven you into. Lazily, you pull down your sunglasses and look at me. "You're looking a little sun burnt."

Of course I'm sun burnt. I'm a lily-white girl exposing myself to sunlight. That's what generally happens. "Well?" I insist.

"Hmm," you hum as you ponder. "I suppose."

I nod.

Together, we change and head into down a mile or so away. Dup P is the smallest of the neighborhoods that make up our country of Panem. In the center is the Lower Case where all the poor people are. They enjoy the Thirsty Games more than the sophisticated neighborhoods that supply the participants. But whatever. It's not like we'll ever have to go back _into_ the Thirsty Games. Winning once is good enough for me.

We visit the local herb shop, which you particularly enjoy because of your fondness of spices. The mushrooms are expensive, but there's nothing we can't afford since we won the Thirsty Games. Then we walk to Whole Foods, which is conveniently right next to the herb shop. We enter and a bells tolls to announce it.

As usual, we're greeted with a thunderous applause. We take a few bows, receive a few kisses, sign a few foreheads, and even smooch a few babies before people return to their usual business and we continue on our way. We walk to the back where Oily Mae is stationed, serving her famous vegan meatloaf. There were rumors that there is actually meat in it. After all, what is meatloaf without the meat? Loaf?

"Where's Gust?" you ask as we walk up to Oily Mae.

"He's out back," she replies, jerking her head toward the back door.

Of course he is. That's where he likes to eat his mushrooms because he can't be caught with them.

"All righty. Thanks Oily Mae!" I say, waving as I head toward the door.

"Thanks!" you call, following me.

We reach the back of the building in time to see Gust being dragged away by members of the Rebellion, otherwise known as Warmakers. Gust is screaming and kicking, trying to wrench himself from the Warmakers' grasps. But he's unsuccessful.

"Gust!" we call, running after him.

It's too late. He disappears around the corner and goes silent. By the time we reach the corner and peer around, Gust is nowhere in sight – not a trace left of him.

"Gust!" I shout in vain.

You jog to the other side of the building, searching, but then shake your head at me. He's gone. Dismayed, I catch up to you and peer in every direction in hopes of catching sight of him. All hopeless.

Then we hear it. The loud, thunderous roaring of a violent crowd, reminiscent of the movies we've seen on Gladiators. On an instinct, we follow the noise. It grows louder until we reach a throbbing mass of people. There has to be hundreds of them, making an unbreakable, impenetrable barrier. We charge forward, sensing that this is about Gust.

We make it past the first few layers of people only because of our momentum. Then we crash to a halt. You smack into an old lady, who immediately turns around and bludgeons you with her cane.

"Get off my lawn!" she shouts, hitting you on the head.

"OW! I'm not on your lawn lady!" you shout.

Meanwhile, I run straight into a particularly flabby man's back. I sink in a few disgusting inches before the fat acts as rubber and catapults me back out. Screaming in surprise, I do a backwards somersault out of the crowd.

The fat man turns and when he sees me, he looks angered. You're still trying to fight off the old lady.

"You shouldn't be here," he says to me, scowling. "You'll only make it worse."

I push myself to my feet. "What are you talking about?"

But the fat man just shakes his head and hobbles away from me.

Befuddled, I rescue you from the old lady. It's not that you're incapable of fighting an old lady. We are vanquishers after all. Your outstanding morals don't allow you to hit the helpless. I wouldn't necessarily call this angry old lady helpless, but I understand your reluctance.

Together, we push our way through the crowd. You're rubbing some forming bruises. Once people start to realize that we're coming, they formed an isle that we walk through. It is almost like parting the Red Sea, if the water is people. I try not to look at their faces because most of them are disgusted or dismayed, even some of them are accusatory. Usually we are greeted by acclamation, and hugs and kisses. Not this. It is a little disconcerting. One would think that being a vanquisher would warrant more respect.

Finally, we make it to the center of the crowd and at it is Gust. His hands and feet have been tied together, and a Warmaker stands at his side with a firm grip on his shoulder. He has a bloody lip but he is otherwise unharmed.

Relief floods through us and we start to make our way forward, but we stop dead in our tracks. Just as we take a step toward him, pebbles erupt from the crowd and hit Gust like hail. He cries out and falls to his knees. The Warmaker holds up a hand, and the pebbles cease.

"How do you like that hippie? Pebbles don't feel too good do they?" the Warmaker inquires, nudging him with a well polished boot. "Now stop being silly and eat some meat!"

"Meat is murder!" Gust screams defiantly.

"Very well." The Warmaker stands and takes a few steps back. He raises his arm and consequently everyone hefts a mighty pebble in his or her hands, ready to chuck it at Gust.

"Stop!" you shout, rushing forward.

I'm a few steps behind, having not expected you to rush off like that. In fact, I'd be looking for a pebble myself. It wouldn't kill Gust to eat a nice steak, but enough pebbles would.

You toss yourself over Gust's crumpled body, shielding him from any pebbles that might come his way. I stand awkwardly by you and place my hands behind my back.

"What are you doing!" the Warmaker bellows angrily. He tries to yank you off Gust so he can continue with the pebbling, but I push him away. I keep him away when he attempts it again.

I say calmly, "Back off Joe. It's not illegal to be a vegan."

"No, but it's stupid and silly. Besides, he was caught with mushrooms from the Lower Case's crops! You know that's illegal."

I toss him the bag of mushrooms that we'd bought. "We buy them for him. You can't tell me that's illegal."

The Warmaker bristles.

"So, if you don't mind," I began listlessly, bending and hoisting you up. It's more difficult than I expect seeing that you're clinging possessively to Gust. I groan until you make it to your feet. It takes both of us to keep Gust standing. "We'll be going now," I finish, breathing hard.

No one stops us as we drag Gust through the town. After about a mile, we break down and steal – I mean _borrow_ someone's horse from a nearby stable. We'll return it soon. It takes some manhandling – in the literal sense – to heft Gust across the horse's back, but once we do, the journey is considerably easier. We make it to your house by the time the sun is setting. Both of us know your mother is the only one that can help Gust at this point.

Once we reach your beach house, you run ahead and knock on your door while I wait with the horse and Gust. Gust is moaning weakly, barely conscious. I cross my arms and share a look with the horse. We seem to understand each other, because we both let out a shudder and shake our heads in dismay.

You return, flanked by your mother and your sister, Dandy. All of you have a concerned look in your eyes, but only you seem to be truly distraught. We all somewhat knew this was coming. Dub P doesn't take kindly to vegans.

"Ginger, would you mind helping us take Gust in?" your mom asks.

Since I have nowhere to be, I shrug and nod. Between you and your mother, you're able to carry Gust's upper half, while I take up the legs. Dandy's only able to carry a boot. We bump Gust's head on the door on the way in; otherwise, the transition is a success. We lay him out on your kitchen table where your mom and Dandy immediately begin concocting random things to help Gust along. Immediately, you and I know we are out of place. We would have solved this problem with duct tape, but apparently, that didn't work for bruises.

We escape the kitchen, feeling awkward, and eventually settle back in our lounge chairs on the beach. For what seems like hours, we watch the waves as the sun slowly sinks below the horizon. Dandy comes when the first star appears and informs us that Gust will make it and he's sleeping it off.

"On the kitchen table?" is my response.

"Oh thank goodness!" is yours.

I turn to you and grin conspiratorially. "You seem awfully glad that Gust is alright."

"He's our friend," you respond tersely, but I can see the blush.

"You like him!" I exclaim. My smile widens and I pointed at you. "You have a crush on Gust!"

"I _do _not!"

"Oh come on Frenchy! I can tell you think the town vegan is _hot_!"

Dandy giggles and points at you. "She does! I read it in her diary!"

"You _read _my _diary_!" you yell, lurching to your feet. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU DANDY!"

I laugh. "Without your harpoon."

"Ginger _shut up_!"

"Gust and Frenchy sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n…."

You hurl yourself at me with a guttural scream and we go tumbling in the sand. It's all fun and games until you nearly make me bite my tongue off. In response, I switch into black-belt mode and easily end the little brawl but kicking you off me and doing one of those fancy flips into a standing position (yes, I can do those).

I dust myself off and start toward your house. Dandy's right behind me and you run to catch up. You push yourself past us before we get into the kitchen so you're the first one Gust sees. You hastily slow down your pace to look nonchalant, but I know better, and you straighten you clothes and run your fingers through your hair, which our brawl disheveled. After a toss of your hair, you walk in.

Gust is on the table, wrapped in gauze covered with something foul smelling. My nose crinkles, but I don't say anything. You rush over and grab his hand from where it rests at his side.

"Gust," you say tentatively.

Reluctantly he opens his eyes. "Oh. Frenchy," he mumbles, barely discernable.

I stifle a smile and say, "And Ginger!"

His eyes drift toward me, but only for a second before they settled back on you and a smile comes across his face. "I'm so glad you're here," he says.

Disconcerted, I share a glance with Dandy, who fake gags and rolls her eyes. That was all I could handle too. I tap a fist to my chest twice and make a peace symbol before leaving the room. Dandy follows. We leave you and Gust alone to discuss things that would be awkward for us and possibly make us sick to our stomachs.

We go into your living room, where your parents are sitting watching TV. Dandy takes a seat, leaving me standing there like a giant elephant in the room that your family easily ignores. I sigh and decide that standing isn't so bad. It was probably the best I could manage.

The news is on the TV. That's right – it's almost time for the announcement of the next Thirsty Games. Wow, it has already been six months since our victory. I listen intently as the vice-president comes onto a stage with purple tulips littered around it. He approaches the microphone and licks his pencil thin lips. Then he begins a longwinded speech about the founding of our country and how the rebellion rose to victory and whatnot. Really, we'd heard it over a million times. Then a little girl in a unitard and tutu skips onto stage carrying a hexagonal box. She holds it out to the vice-president who opens it a takes out a single slip.

He returns to the microphone as he unfolds the slip. Clearing his throat, he announces, "To celebrate the 75th Thirsty Games, the contestant shall be taken from the existing pool of vanquishers to show that they are the strongest among us."

I wish I had been holding a glass of water or something so I could have dropped it and there would be a slow motion shot of it slowly falling to the floor and shattering into a million pieces. All I drop is my jaw.

"Frenchy!" I call immediately because your family is too stunned to do so.

"What!" you shout back. I have obviously interrupted something.

"Get cho ass out here!" My head bobs from side-to-side as I say it and I snap in a Z formation.

You come in reluctantly, looking flushed and frustrated. You scowl at each and every one of us, but then you take in the silence, the news cast on the TV, and the stunned looks on each of our faces. Gulping, you inch your way into the room and slowly take a seat.

"What'd I miss?" you ask hesitantly.

"We're going back," I respond bluntly.

"Back to where? Whole Foods? Did you lose Gust's shrooms again?"

I stare at you straight in the face. "One: I don't support your relationship with a shroom addict and vegan–"

"Relationship!" your mom splutters.

"Vegans aren't that bad," you grumble.

"–And two," I continue. "We're going back in the Thirsty Games."

Your head snaps toward the TV as the news announcer repeats what the vice-president just read from the card. Then, before any of us can stop you – even me – you bolt out of the room, crashing through the nearest window.

"Frenchy!" everyone shouts.

I rush to the window, not caring that I step on some shards of glass, and peer out. The moon is bright tonight, so despite the darkness, I can see you running frenetically down the street. You're flailing your arms in the air, screaming "Ah!" so loudly that it echoes off the nearby homes.

"Crap," I grumble as I retreat from the window. Your family is waiting expectantly. I gave them a "what can you do?" shrug before taking off down the hall and out your front door. Unlike you, I have the mental capacity to not break through windows. I chase after you down the street, but you're a good football field's length ahead of me. And you're better on land than I am. Soon enough, you swerve to the left and disappear into some vacant houses.

When I catch up, I'm faced with a dilemma. There is a string of vacant houses up for sale. Unlike us, most people can't afford beachfront property. I stand, bent over with my hands on my knees, panting, and trying to discern in which house you chose to have your breakdown. Finally, I see another broken window with a Frenchy-shaped hole in it, and crawl through. I scrape my palm slightly, but it's no big deal. Inside, the house is a shell. There are some nice wood floors, a couch or two, but is otherwise completely empty.

"Frenchy!" I call a little breathlessly.

You aren't anywhere in sight and I don't hear an answer. I wander through the halls and rooms until I come to a door that's been flung wide open. All the other doors are locked shut, so I step through the door. It leads downstairs to the basement. It's dark and clammy. I struggle blindly forward, wondering how the hell you managed it. I'm nearly startled out of my skin when something smacks me in the face. I latch onto it to find that it's a string attached to a light bulb. The light clicks on.

I blink in the startling brightness. Finally, I see you, huddled in the corner. I don't really see you though, but I can't imagine that there would be anyone else in a vacant home with a sheet over their head.

For a moment, I am tossed into the memory of our first Thirsty Games when I found you buried in snow. Maybe that is what the sheet is for. Perhaps when you blew yourself up six months ago, something in your head snapped just a little so now when you're stressed you seek the feeling of that snow to comfort you.

"Frenchy," I say soothingly, hoping you won't come at me with a knife or anything. Maybe you've finally snapped completely. How could I know?

Slowly, I walk toward you and crouch down. I reach out and gradually pull the sheet off you. You're looking dejectedly at the wall.

"Hey," I say with a reassuring smile. "It's gonna be alright. We've won it once, we'll win it again."

"Both of us can't though. Not this time. Never again."

"Well, we proved them wrong once. We'll prove them wrong again."

"Your optimism never ceases to amaze me Ginger," you grumble sarcastically, but I know you really mean it.

I smile and kindly place the sheet back over your head. "That's better," I say. "Come on out when you're done. We'll start our training tomorrow. Meet me at my house."

"Why your house?" you ask from under the sheet.

"Because, my house is cooler."

"You wish Ginger."

Even though you can't see me, I smile and wave to you before leaving.

The next six months are difficult. We train like crazy – mainly hiking in the mountains and swimming on the beach. Sometimes, we play sword-fought with sticks we found in the woods, but when that led to a lot of bruises, we decided it was better not to.

Somewhere in those six months – we couldn't be sure since we spent some nights camping in the woods – it is announced that there aren't enough vanquishers in existence to make for an interesting Thirsty Games; therefore, each vanquisher is allowed to bring a guest. That leaves us with a dilemma. You immediately think of Gust, who is still recuperating in your house – though _I _know that he's completely fine. However, I can't think of anybody I'd bring into the Games. Then I get a brilliant idea one of the nights we're out in the woods.

I can bring an ex-convict!

Yeah, one of those big, scary brutes covered with tattoos and scars. He could handle himself in the arena, kill plenty of people for us, and somehow tragically die so the country doesn't have a convict as a vanquisher.

The trouble is I don't know any ex-convicts. That is easily solved with a trip to the neighborhood prison. Being a vanquisher has its perks (going back to the Games wasn't one of them). The neighborhood sheriff knows me well and is glad to give me a tour of the facilities. I don't necessarily tell him I am looking for a partner to the Thirsty Games, but I quickly drop all pretenses when I spot a perfect suitor to my needs.

His name is Kcinnif O'Defy and he is perfect in every way. I first see him doing pull-ups as though he is lifting a kitty and not himself through the tiny window in the cell doors. Instantly, I am hooked. His shirt is off, but I doubt even if he had one on it would hide his large, insanely hot muscles. I know, right then and there, that he is going to be my guest to the Thirsty Games.

"Him," I say, stopping dead in my tracks. My eyes never leave the window of the door. How many pull-ups had he done?

"What?" the sheriff asks, confused.

"He'll be my guest to the Thirsty Games."

The sheriff just nods. Maybe he already knows what I intend to use Kcinnif for.

I fill out some paper work and it's all set for Kcinnif to accompany me to the Thirsty Games. A few months later, Gust, you and I are waiting for Kcinnif to show up so we can set out for the Lower Case. I'm surprised you brought Gust, but then again I'm not. We stand at the hovercraft pad, waiting for the usual hovercraft to pick us up for the Games. Maybe it'd even be the same one.

"I call top bunk," I say offhandedly.

"Mmm," you grunt in respond.

I smile. Goody, I get the top bunk!

"Who'd you pick as your guest," you ask. Your arms are crossed but I see you eyeing Gust's hand yearningly.

I smile as I think of Kcinnif doing pull-ups. "You'll see."

And indeed, you do. Kcinnif shows up in a cop car, still handcuffed. An orderly escorts him to us, then the orderly gives us a nod and leaves. Kcinnif stands there awkwardly for a moment.

"Ginger!" you gasp and turn to me. "You got a _convict _to go with you."

"Technically he's an ex-convict… If I filled out the paperwork right."

Kcinnif smiles at me. "Yep. I'm a free man."

"Mmm, well, for now." I don't have the heart to tell him he'll soon be in a new type of prison. Besides, he could very well use those muscles to crush my head.

Then we board the train and leave for the Lower Case.

**Chapter 2:**

The next few weeks are rather boring. Sure, we're paraded around the Lower Case like the celebrities that we are. Even some discolored babies are thrown at us. Kcinnif wasn't sure what to make of it. He'd been in prison for a good five years. His crime? He'd caused the death of several girls because their hearts gave out in his presence. Personally, I think the jury was just jealous of his amazing good looks so they sent him away for life. Well, life until I got there. Now he's ALL mine.

Training goes by in a flash, and, as usual, both you and I pull a one – on a scale of twelve to one. Twelve meant being so absolutely atrocious, so pathetically wimpy a snail could defeat you. And one meant being so absolutely amazing, tears were brought to the judges eyes, and no one had any hope of ever defeating you. To us, it's no big deal. Just another Thirsty Games. The only difference is, Kcinnif and Gust both get a two, which means we're basically the powerhouse team to beat. The other vanquishers get fives or worse.

The only mishap occurs when Kninnif and I are oiling up for a good wrestling match. I am busy helping Kninnif oil his extremely muscular back, admiring his prison tatts, so I don't notice right away.

Hojanna Bason walks up as nonchalantly as a vanquisher can. She won a few years back with probably the cleverest strategy ever conceived. She pretended to be so awesomely amazing and lethal, that no one wanted to ever approach her. The entire Thirsty Games, she managed to feed herself and survive. Anytime anyone came to confront her, they would run away screaming. By the time there were only two left, the actual competitor laughed themselves to death from the sheer preposterousness of the situation. And thus, the vanquisher Hojanna Bason was born.

Now, she is decked out in a rock costume. She pretends to be admiring Kcinnif's prison tatts, but I see right through it in a heartbeat. No one _just _admires his tattoos. They admire _everything._

"My, my, my. If it isn't Kcinnif O'defy. Been a long time hasn't it?"

I bristle slightly. She knew Kcinnif beforehand? I thought that every girl that laid eyes on him collapsed from his awesome beauty.

"Indeed it has Hojanna. How's your arm?"

"Loads better."

I can't take any more. "You know each other!" I burst, anger flooding me.

Hojanna nods as if it's no big deal. What she doesn't know is: it is.

"I was the only woman's heart he couldn't break," she continues, ignoring my death glare.

"Maybe it's because you have no heart."

"Ooh, that _hurts._"

That was a joke. You can't hurt someone without feelings.

Before I can think of such a riveting and intelligent remark that it would bring tears to Hojanna's eyes and cause Kcinnif to turn around and say, "Ginger, you're the best!", Hojanna rips off her rock costume in one swift movement. Apart from a few choice sandy areas, she doesn't have on a stitch of clothing.

My jaw drops and what innocence I have leaves, fluttering out the window sobbing. Kcinnif goes rigid.

"I've got sand in places you wouldn't even _believe_," she sighed.

"I believe," I say faintly.

"Hey guys! How's it–" you say, cutting off as you walk up just in time to see the show.

Gust is a few steps behind you. He had been at your side until he noticed a certain something and stopped in his tracks. His ears are turning pink but he also has a satisfied look on his face. You turn away, horrorstruck, just to see the look Gust is giving Hojanna. Your eye twitches once.

Then all hell explodes. You give a battle cry and throw yourself at Hojanna. Shyness and decency left to join my innocence somewhere as you and Hojanna wrestle on the ground. There's some biting, some hair-pulling, but mostly limb-pulling. It's a good thing you two are on the wrestling mat. Purposefully maiming other contestants is generally frowned upon.

I'm about to jump in and take a few swings myself when I hear a sickeningly loud "shloo-POP!" It rings throughout the training center. Everyone freezes in what they're doing.

"My arm!" Hojanna screams.

I can't tell what she's talking about, you two are so entangled. It takes some leverage, but you suddenly separate. There you are, sitting with something in your hands. And Hojanna's sitting a few feet away staring in shock at something: her nub of an arm.

"You ripped off my arm!" Hojanna cries.

"You ripped off her arm!" I shout in disbelief. I put a hand over my mouth and point.

"I ripped off her arm!" you respond in a daze, staring at the object in your hands. It's Hojanna's left arm.

There's no blood though, which confuses me. I haven't seen many amputations, but it's a general rule that where there is ripping of appendages, there is blood. Yet neither Hojanna's nub nor the arm in your hands has any trace of blood – some wrestling oil, but no blood.

Hojanna stands up, stomps the few paces to you, and yanks the arm from your grasp. "Thanks for revealing to everybody that I have a prosthetic arm!" she yells before storming out of the training room.

You remain where you are for a moment and then look at me. We burst out laughing. If there was anything funnier than ripping off a prosthetic arm, I have yet to find it.

Before we know it, we're back in our separate hovercrafts, in our brightly colored uniforms, heading to an all-new arena. The days ahead of us would be difficult, but hey, we've done it before and we can do it again. At the same time, we step onto our drop hatches and take a deep breath. Then there's nothing but air and we're falling. We land on our pedestals. We stumble as the metal plate shakes slightly from our weight. It's the most terrifying part of the games: catching your balance.

For a few seconds, everyone is crouching, struggling to stay on their pedestal while it sways and jiggles. See, their sixty feet up in the air.

Once again, the arena is filling up with water. I look down this time, sure that I can catch a glance of the arena. No such luck. What isn't covered in water is shrouded by a dense fog. Nothing's revealed.

I scan the surrounding pedestals until I see you. We give each other nods. In the center of the circle, thirty yards away, is the Bread Basket. Still no bread I'm guessing, but our plan is reversed this time. I keep scanning until I catch Kcinnif. He smiles and waves and – I'll admit it – my heart skips a beat. He's freaking amazing looking in the sunlight. And the jumpsuit matches his eyes. Meanwhile, you're staring at Gust with a small smile on your face while he gazes around in pure amazement.

The negative sixty seconds come again. I sigh and watch the water rise. There's something about going through a countdown twice that makes it doubly anticlimactic. A quick glance around shows that all the other vanquishers aren't all that riveted by the countdown either. You seem more caught up by the fact Gust is there rather than the fact he probably won't last long. Let's face it. He's a vegan in a competition where food is hard to come by. I give him three days at most.

Down to ten seconds once more. I don't even bother paying attention. Instead I give a small wave to Kcinnif who smiles and waves back. I watch his biceps and smile myself.

One.

Oops, I've missed the end of the countdown. Oh well, it's not my job to get to the Bread Basket this time. It's yours and Kcinnif's. Thankfully, I don't have any prominent muscles to admire, so Kcinnif doesn't miss the countdown and neither do you. I spring into the water a second after the one resonates throughout the arena. Most of the other vanquishers and guests have already gone into the water.

Good news? You're almost to the Bread Basket and so is Kcinnif. Bad news? Some of the vanquishers have chosen to ignore the Break Basket altogether and go for other vanquishers instead. Okay, it doesn't sound so bad unless you're the vanquisher being attacked. Which happens to be me. They must've been impressed by my performance last year and hoped to get me out of the games first.

Bring it.

You've reached the Bread Basket and have pulled yourself in. Kcinnif has joined you. You rifle through several supplies, choose some choice packs and weapons and go to the edge to throw them to me. The only problem is: I'm not there.

"Ginger!" I hear you shout just as I whack someone over the head with my foot. Honestly, it was an accident. I was just trying to swim, but her face got in the way.

"Fren–!" I try to shout back but someone ducks me under. I knee them in the crotch. Note: Hitting a girl in the crotch is just as effective as hitting a guy there. Luckily, it was a guy anyway, so he went down screaming an octave higher. I splutter back up to the surface. "–chy!" I finish, coughing up water.

Really, this is completely unfair.

You go to action. Rushing, you go to shove some weapons at Kcinnif, but he's gone. Confused, you look over the side of the Bread Basket and see him swimming quickly toward me. You shrug because you have bigger problems. More vanquishers have reached the Bread Basket. One vanquisher, a sixty-six year old man, grabs the nearest weapon. A harpoon.

"Darn kid, get off my lawn!" he screams and runs toward you but his teeth fall out. "Whoops!" he slurs, spit flying everywhere.

He bends down to pick them up and you nudge him with your foot so he topples over.

"My hip!"

You know he's down for the count, so there's no need in finishing him off. All you do is wrestle the harpoon from him and add it to our pile of things. Right now, it includes satchels for the four of us, weapons to arm an army, and duct tape. You glance over the side, expecting Gust to be somewhere in the fray. But he's nowhere in sight. You quickly scan the water, making sure each bit of flotsam isn't Gust. Then something catches your eye.

He's still on his pedestal, waving his arms.

"I can't swim!" he shouts over the commotion. You groan and clap a hand over your face. You'd swim out there and save him yourself but that would leave our supplies defenseless. The only option is to wait for Kcinnif and me to do it.

While you've been kicking old men, I've been struggling to stay alive. Thanks for your concern. Anyway, one vanquisher grabs my legs and starts dragging me downward while their partner helps by dunking my head. I'll admit I would have been a goner if Kcinnif hadn't chosen that moment to show up, muscles blazing. He punches the lights out of the vanquisher dunking my head and dives down to grab the one clutching my legs. At this point, I'm half drowned so I'm not exactly sure what happens, but from what I can tell, Kcinnif has the vanquisher in a chokehold and is holding him under the water. Bubbles erupt on the surface.

I cough the water from my lungs. "Thanks Kcinnif."

"I'm gonna dunk you so hard, your momma's not even gonna recognize you!" he's shouting, but he pauses to smile at me.

I'm struck by his utter hotness and am frozen in place for a second. I splutter when my open mouth catches some water. "I'm… I'm gonna go… Yeah, I'm gonna go help Frenchy."

He doesn't seem to notice how many times it takes me to form a sentence, but just waves me on while he pulls the poor sap up to dunk him again. I swear, he is glistening in the sunlight. I force myself to focus and paddle over to the Bread Basket. Man, I'm glad I brought Kcinnif here. Then again, I now owe an ex-convict my life.

Oh well. At least I'm alive.

"Frenchy!" I call once I'm at the base of the Basket.

You appear over me, looking flushed from fighting. There's a harpoon in your hand. "Oh good! Where's Kcinnif?"

I jerk my head to where I just came from.

You whistle your appreciation. "That's great but Gust can't swim!" You point at your partner still stranded on his pedestal. He's so pathetic that no one has bothered to kill him just yet.

"He can't swim…" I repeat slowly, forcing myself not to voice my opinion on the matter. The fact is you've brought a completely useless person into the games. If you had really liked him, you would've spared his life and brought someone that could help bring you home. But whatever. Love is love. And in this case, vegan love.

"Don't say it," you say, slapping a hand over your eyes. "I know. Will you just get him?"

"I say he's fine where he is. Let's just get the supplies over there and wait till this place drains."

You nod reluctantly and disappear to sling over the satchels. Kcinnif makes it back just in time to help us. He can carry twice the amount as we can, so he easily manages Gust's supplies. We swim over to Gust's pedestal and sling our stuff onto it. Kcinnif reaches up and pulls Gust into the water. He yelps, managing to swallow a mouthful of water before Kcinnif helps him latch onto the pedestal so he doesn't drown.

The lake starts to drain. This time, it's a little difficult to keep hold of the slippery pole with three other people to contend with, but we manage. When the eminent danger is over, I'm overwhelmed with frustration.

I splash you deliberately in the face.

"What was that for?" you demand, wiping the water from your eyes.

"HOW CAN YOU BRING A VEGAN INTO THE GAMES THAT CAN'T SWIM!" I yell, splashing you again.

You're angry now, and you splash me back. "I DIDN'T KNOW HE COULDN'T SWIM!"

"I don't go telling people that," Gust protests, though he looks more hurt than anything.

I point threateningly at him. "You shut up. Do you know how useless you are?"

"Stop it!" you shout at me. You swing around the pole and kick me in the side.

I launch myself at you and dunk your head under the water. You thrash for a moment before managing to shove me off. We splash each other furiously. The only thing that stops us from killing each other is Kcinnif. He lifts us from the water and sets us on opposite sides of the pole.

Glaring at Gust, I grumble, "Don't think you can stop me from throttling her, Mushroom Boy."

"He can't but I can," Kcinnif says, eyeing me warningly.

His hotness takes a dip in my eyes.

"Oh please Ginger, you know who would do the throttling and it wouldn't be you."

"You shut up! I'm still mad you brought such a completely useless… _thing_ with us!"

"He's not useless! He has an extensive knowledge of–"

"Of what? _Mushrooms_?"

You scowl at me.

Gust raises his hand tentatively. "Actually, I do."

"Shut up! You're not helping."

The rest of the time the water is draining, we're silent. You and I are glaring off in different directions while Kcinnif and Gust glance cautiously between us. None of the other vanquishers come our way. Maybe it's the frightening expression we have on our faces, or maybe it's what Kcinnif did to those other vanquishers, but we seem to have a sign over our heads that says "Stay away."

This time around, no mountains poke up out of the water. It's a relief, because climbing up and down the mountains sucked last time. In fact, there doesn't seem to be any variation in the levelness of the arena. Just one, flat mass of black. Our feet hit the ground and nothing is discernible. In fact, everything is pitch black.

Then, just as I'm about to say something along the lines of "This is weird", a green light clicks on with a cacophony of sound that has us dropping to our knees, hands over our ears. An obnoxious beeping, over and over again at even intervals. Nothing stops it for at least a minute. Then everything is just as silent as it had been before. The green light hasn't gone away.

We rise shakily to our feet.

"What was that?" I ask. Everyone's face is cast in a greenish glow, making us all look sick and ghostly.

You shake your head. "I don't know."

That seemed to be the general consensus.

"What do we do now?" Gust asks, a tremor in his voice.

I glare at him.

"We should find food," Kcinnif suggests.

Again, I'm glad I brought him. Granted, we would have thought of that, but just knowing he knows this sort of thing is reassuring.

"Where to Sacajawea?" I ask.

Gust bends down and picks at the grass that's beneath our feet. He plucks a single blade. After squishing it between his fingers, he smells it, smiles, and pops it in his mouth. We watch as he chews, swallows, and sighs in contentment. He pats his stomach.

I throw my hands up. "Ah hell no! I am _not _eating grass."

"It's not grass."

"Excuse me, but it grows on the ground, it's green, and _bugs _eat it. I'll pass."

Gust rips some more grass from the ground and offers it to me. "It's not grass. I promise."

You take a blade and pop it into your mouth. "He's right!" you exclaim, shoving in another handful. "It's candy!"

"Vegan candy," I scoff and cross my arms.

"Is everything candy?" Kcinnif wonders aloud. He kneels and scoops up a handful of dirt. Hesitantly, he drops a pinch onto his tongue. "Chocolate!" he proclaims, dumping in the rest of his handful.

I twitch, my stubbornness preventing me from tasting anything. You and Gust might mess with me, but Kcinnif didn't seem like he would do that. Finally, I give in. I take some dirt and put it on my tongue. Sure enough, it melts like chocolate and tastes just as good.

"What is this? Wonka's Chocolate Factory?"

"I don't know," you respond through a mouthful of grass. "But at least we won't have to worry about going hungry."

"I don't hear water this time."

"It might turn out to be more of a Thirsty Games."

"It might."

**Chapter 3:**

We decide we might as well sort through our packs. This year, I get three knives, but Slasher and Dasher don't seem to fit any of them so I decide on Bubbles, Blossom and Buttercup because they're colored blue, red and green. And then there's my sword. I name him Ripper. You name this harpoon Dianne (haha get it? The first one was your dad and now this one is your mom!). Kcinnif's weapons are a set of giant silverware. He's particularly fond of the fork. He can chuck it accurately great distances. Gust dislikes weapons, but he's handy with some gardening tools we found (hey they can be sharp). Well, whatever floats his boat?

Each of us has a gallon of water and enough imperishables to last a few days. Counting the candy, we're sitting pretty. None of us want to move just yet, so we set up camp. I'd say we set up camp for the night, but there isn't a sun or a moon, just the greenish glow from the distance.

By my internal clock, I'm guessing only an hour or so has passed. Just as I wonder this in my head the annoying beeping returns, louder and more obnoxious that before. All of us double of, trying to hide our ears from the noise. It lasts maybe five minutes before disappearing, leaving being an eerie silence in our ringing ears.

"What the hell is that?" I ask, my eyes watering from the pain.

"I dunno," you reply, rubbing your temples. "But it oddly reminds me of school and I think I hate it."

I agree.

"Maybe we should get moving," Kcinnif suggest. "Maybe it's localized to this area. Like one of the Fun-Suckers' tricks."

To this we nod, clutching all of our gear. We choose a direction at random, seeing that everything is looks disturbingly the same, and set off. We make it perhaps ten yards before we encounter a strange purple haze. Faltering at the sight, we exchange looks. We turn to look behind us as one and see a similar haze.

And then Pink Floyd is playing in our ears.

"Run?" I suggest hopefully.

Everyone nods. Then we throw our hands up in the air and start running in panic through the purple haze, listening to the omnipresent sounds of Pink Floyd. Our panic doesn't last, however. Soon we all feel rather calm and lazy. I just want to lie down, but I keep moving. You stop walking abruptly and slowly sink to the ground, looking as though you're about to take a nap. Kcinnif's looking around distractedly.

"Hey, man, I like this song," he says, grinning like a fat kid in a cake shop.

Gust seems to be the only one not affected by the haze. He bends and grabs your arm, saying, "We can't stop. Let's keep going."

You giggle stupidly. "When did you grow a third ear?"

He doesn't respond, but continue to pull you along. Kcinnif and I have linked arms and are skipping happily after Gust, singing "We're off to see the wizard! The wonderful Wizard of Oz!" All the while, Gust is dragging you by the arms.

We keep trudging forward, in some sort of a daze, when, all of a sudden, Kcinnif and I skip right into water. We topple over into the water. Gust doesn't stop at the edge, but drags you in as well. Kcinnif and I emerge, spluttering and spitting water in surprise. It's salt water. I no longer have the urge to sing the Wizard of Oz, though I still had the temptation to be arm and arm with Kcinnif, and I couldn't hear the Pink Floyd anymore. You come up and spit an arc of water, worthy of a fountain, out of your mouth and then cough. Gust didn't submerge himself in water, but was happily sitting on the banks, his pants wet to the shins.

Sodden, we drag ourselves out of the water to dry off and process what just happened.

Before we even have a chance to realize what we'd just undergone, a grab pops out of the water.

"Eh… Eh you," he says with a heavy Jamaican accent. "'Ave you seen a ginga pass through 'ere? We needta sing to 'er mon."

We shake our heads, purely shocked.

Gust points a finger at me, still grinning stupidly. "Her name's Ginger."

"Close enough." The crab whips out a conducting baton in one claw and begins swinging it in the air. "All right mon, just like we practiced!"

Fish start popping out of the water. The crab gives the downbeat and they break out singing, "Sha lalalalala my-oh-my, looks like the boy's too shy, ain't gonna KISS THE GIRL! Whoa whoa!"

I scream in terror as a seagull swoops down to peck at my head. I notice, a little heartbrokenly, that Kcinnif has scooted a few feet away. You're staring at Gust pointedly, but he's enjoying watching the singing fish too much to notice.

Once the fish finish the first song, they immediately break into "Under the Sea." Killer whales charge up on the beach, attempting to take us under the sea. You only manage to fend them off by wielding your harpoon at them and screaming, "Back Shamu! BACK!" They begrudgingly shimmy back into the ocean. Once the killer whales disappear, a giant half extremely ugly woman with lung cancer, and half octopus emerges and begins belting out "Poor unfortunate souls!" which is fitting considering how we felt.

By the end of that song, we're all clutching our ears and rocking back and forth. I'm mumbling, "No more. Please. No more." You're shaking from head to toe. Gust is weeping. Kcinnif looks as though he's seen a ghost, and is gnawing on his fingernails. I thought I heard him mumble something about his teddy bear "snuffles".

All at once, the octopus woman cuts off after pelting out an extremely long note that sets my teeth on edge, and the fish plunge back into the ocean. As soon as they're heads disappear beneath the waves, the annoying buzzing is back.

It sends us over the edge. We all scream and clutching our ears, rolling around on the ground and writhing. Five minutes later (but it felt like eternity), it's all over and we fall still, trembling and in shock.

"Frenchy," I say hoarsely. "This is a lot different than last year."

You nod shakily.

By now, it should have been nighttime, but without a sun, the hours are all jumbled up. We decided we're too shaken and exhausted to move. We make camp a little ways from the water, just in case the crab comes back and asks for the ginger again. For a while, none of us speak, but lie shivering in a loose circle. Gust is nibbling nervously on the grass. Kcinnif is eyeing his giant set of silverware as thought he might like to impale himself. You're silent, drawing a heart with the initials FT and GM (Gust Mulberry… since it's Gale Hawthorn I think… I'm going for a different type of tree) in the sand. Then you erase it with a swipe of your hand and draw it again.

An hour later, the noise comes again. We just cringe and hold our hands over our ears. When it's gone, we relax and try to sleep once more.

After sometime, I become restless, sure that something horrible was going to happen to us soon. I stand and start pacing around all of you, snacking on grass and chocolate.

"I'm going for a walk," I decide.

"You can't go by yourself," you say crossly from where you're sprawled out. "And none of us want to go with you, so… there."

"I'll go," Gust offers.

You look a little offended, but decide you're too tired to argue. So you just grumble something rude and turn over.

Gust and I set off in one direction. Moving makes me feel as though we're actually accomplishing something, fighting before something totally tragic happens. The darkness and monotony don't lift my spirits at all. Maybe, I think, if we continued walking, we'd find something useful.

"Ginger," Gust says abruptly. His eyes are downcast.

"Huh?" I respond wearily, afraid of where this might go.

"Do you think Frenchy likes me?"

"Is this really the place?" I ask. "I mean, we are currently fighting for our lives."

He looks surprised. "What better a time? I mean, don't you find it… well, romantic when someone only gathers enough courage to confess their love in the face of death?"

I think about the Titanic and shake my head. "Please. I mean, really it wastes your time doesn't it? Being all lovey-dovey out here doesn't get you anywhere. It makes you an easy target. Especially from a distance. I mean if you're… entwined–" I cringe at the image of you and Gust _entwined_ "– all someone has to do is aim at the mass and _boom_! You're both gone."

"You're a very morbid person," he notes.

I halt where I am, highly offended. "Excuse me! I'm being realistic! I'm thinking of survival. I haven't seen you survive anything like–" Then I think about how he'd been the one to pull us out of the haze. My anger flares. It was just because he's built up an immunity to haze!

But Gust doesn't seem to notice my anger. He's wandered a few yards away and is looking at something on the ground with avid interest. Abruptly, his hand shoots out and he scoops up whatever he's been looking at.

"It _is_!" he shouts excitedly. "It's a shitake mushroom! These are really rare in Dub P!"

"You're not gonna eat it are you?" I ask, trying to hide my disgust as I look at the oblong fungus. "I mean, what if it's not? It could very well be poisonous."

"I know a mushroom when I see one and this is a shitake all the way." He turns the mushrooms in his fingers. "And besides, a baby as sweet as this needs to be cooked to bring out all of the flavors."

"Whatever," I say, not about to waste energy on him if he's dumb enough to eat something foreign in the arena. I walk away from him. _It's not worth it,_ I repeat to myself, but the urge to punch him in the face is so tempting.

I'm too busy savoring the image of Gust getting hit over the head with Kcinnif's giant spoon to realize I'm about to step over a cliff until it's too late. My foot tumbles over the edge, sending all my weight careening forward. I let out a cry of surprise before I'm toppling head over heels. I hit something hard, that's cold and feels strangely like plastic. I latch on for dear life. My hands slip a few more feet before I'm stationary, hanging from my fingertips off a ledge.

"Ginger!" Gust is shouting over the edge. "Ginger I dropped my mushroom!"

"I've dropped a lot more if you haven't noticed!" I holler angrily. My muscles are straining to keep hold of the ledge. I'm about ten feet down a sheer cliff; a strange square of black is the only thing saving me from falling to the bottom.

"Oh right… yes."

"HELP ME UP!"

Gust nods eagerly before disappearing from view.

I panic. "Wait… WAIT! COME BACK! I'M SORRY I CALLED YOU A MUSHROOM LOVING––" But Gust's head pops back and I mutter a relieved, "Oh thank god."

"Sorry, I'm a little rusty with my braiding otherwise I would have had it sooner."

Braiding? I don't have time to question him because he throws a long rope of braided candy grass over the edge and the excess hits my face. I'm afraid to let go though.

"Is it safe?" I call.

"Yeah, totally. Don't you remember I won that rope braiding contest a few years back?"

"It's not gonna fall apart or anything right?"

He shakes his head. "Just take it!"

Cursing to myself, I snatch the rope with my hand, and then, hesitating beforehand, clutch it with both hands. My arms are shaking from the strain now. Gust starts pulling me up and I can use my feet to help push myself up. I make it over the lip of the cliff and collapse from exhaustion and relief. I can scarcely move.

"Thanks Gust," I whisper.

He smiles.

"Hey, you go for Frenchy. She digs you man. And if they come by here soon," I say but hesitate. "You should tell Kcinnif I need CPR – I've stopped breathing okay?"

Gust nods and gives me a wink.

"GUST! GINGER!" you're calling from some distance.

Gust responds and a moment later, you and Kcinnif come into view.

"Is she okay?" you ask, panic-stricken at the sight of me, immobile, on the ground.

"She's stopped breathing!" Gust says in a very convincing way. I do my part to stay still and look pale. "I think she needs CPR – some mouth to mouth resuscitation!"

There's a pause and I'm too afraid to open my eyes to see what's happening. Finally, I hear someone kneel close to me.

"Fine," you say. "If it has to be done, I'll do it." Then your hand is on my shoulder. "Hold on buddy! I'll save you!"

My eyes shoot open the see you rolling up your sleeves and scarily close to me. I shove you away before anything awkward can happen, thinking how horribly this plan backfired.

"I'm alive… I'M ALIVE!" I shout, holding my arms out toward the heavens. "I saw the light but now I'm back!"

Everyone looks relieved though all I feel is disappointment.

Just then, three figures appear out of the darkness, covered in what looks like chocolate. Soon the smell hits us and it's confirmed: it's not chocolate.

"Buzz, buzz, buzz," one of them is humming on a very off note key and runs around like a bumble bee. Another, limping, grows irritate and pushes the bumble bee over. "Shut up!" Then the third was mumbling, "I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts. Dee-da-lee-de."

"Hojanna!" Kcinnif exclaims and runs forward to meet them, then remembers the stuff that's not chocolate and stops. "What're you doing here?"

"I was told," she says peevishly, "that if I brought Chordess and Turnippy to your group, you'd guys would let me in."

Chordess and Turnippy were two vanquishers that won a very long time ago. I have no idea why they'd be required to join our group. I was all for ripping off Hojanna's arm and leaving her to rot, and you seem to be on the same page, but Gust and Kcinnif are more welcoming.

"Yeah!" they say. "Come on and wash up!" They lead her to the water where she, Chordess and Turnippy wash themselves off. You and I remain behind, hesitant to go near the water again.

Hojanna busily began telling her story. "And since the dirt was chocolate, we thought, 'Hey! It's raining chocolate!' So we tried to catch some drops in our mouths, but it wasn't chocolate. It tastes like a barn in my mouth…It wasn't chocolate–" She shivers "–And then it continued on and on for an hour. And then the buzzing! After that, this one hasn't stopped buzzing."

"Bzz, bzz, time to wake up!" Chordess shouts on cue.

"Whoa!" I shout, something dawning. "Whoa wait! She said… she it was time to wake up! That's it! It's an alarm clock!"

"I don't get it," Hojanna says. I can't help but notice that the water all around her in a deep shade of brown.

"We just gotta turn off the alarm and the buzzing will stop!"

You roll your eyes. "And how are we supposed to find the switch."

I bend and draw a hasty rectangle in the sand. "When I fell off the edge, I latched onto something that was plastic. I think if we toss someone over the edge, they'll be able to flip the switch and it'll end the buzzing!"

Everyone look rather confused, but nodded anyway. We set Gust to making an extra strong rope from the grass while the rest of us sit around debating who we are going to send over the edge.

"I already went. I shouldn't have to go again."

"Oh psh – that just means you'll know where the switch is."

"I'm afraid of heights."

"I don't think the grass rope will support me."

"My arm might fall off."

Everyone starts talking over each other. I stand and start shouting "Shut up!" over everybody, but no one seems to listen. Then the buzzing returns and everyone ceases arguing to clench their teeth from the pain.

After it is over, I say a little shakily, "Let's draw straws."

"Okay," you say and lean forward to draw a line in the sand. "Can anyone do better?"

"That's not what I meant!"

"I'll do it!" Chordess offers, refraining from her bee imitation to do so.

We all nod our approval. "All right it's decided."

But then Chordess wanders to close to the water and a killer whale shoots up and take her under the sea. Briefly, we're treated to the chorus before all is silent again. Staring in shock at the place Chordess has disappeared, we're unsure what to do for a moment.

"Who else wants to go?"

Everything looks at each other, debating whether they wanted to give themselves up for the greater good, or be petty enough to volunteer someone else.

"Draw straws?" you ask again.

You go and pluck several blades of candy grass. We gather in a circle and all pick one blade from your hand. Then, on the count of three, we hold them out for each other to see. Mine was the shortest.

I swear loudly and toss the grass as far as it'll go, then proceed to stomp on it repeatedly.

A few minutes later, Gust has his rope finished. Our group trudges back toward the cliff. They tie the rope securely around me while I gaze forlornly over the edge, seeing nothing but blackness and the shiny plastic of hopefully the alarm off switch. The irony is that this was my idea to begin with. I just thought that because of that, I would've been exempt from the dirty work.

"Okay Ginger," you say, raring up to a pep talk. "We're gonna swing you over the edge. All you have to do if flip the off switch."

I nod.

"We'll keep a tight hold of the rope."

Again, I nod, but a little more glumly.

I ease myself over the edge of the cliff, and then they start lowering me. But all at once, the rope becomes loose and I'm falling. This time I'm lucky enough to fall straight on a ledge. The only problem is the other end of the rope is falling past me into the abyss. Someone up above had let go and thrown it over the edge after me. I pressed myself against the cliff side, hoping this wouldn't be some booby trap where the ledge starts to slip into the cliff side

While I'm trapped down below, you've just been knocked out. Hojanna has ripped her prosthetic arm from its socket and used it to bludgeon you to unconsciousness. Kcinnif, Hojanna and Gust run off, leaving you on the ground, bleeding but otherwise all right. A few seconds after they disappear out of view, two vanquishers come by.

"She's a goner," one of them says. "Not worth it."

The other checks over the cliff, but can seen me in the darkness.

"Come on," the other says. "They went this way."

The two vanquishers rush off after Hojanna, Gust, and Kcinnif. A their footsteps fade, you manage to rouse yourself out of unconscious. Up until then, I'd been keen to keep quiet, but I sensed it was safe. From my perch below, I call up, "Frenchy!"

"Huh?" you respond, still a little dazed.

"Oh thank goodness! Look, I've found the switch. It's right here on the ledge. I'll flip it and then you can pull me up."

"Okay," you grumble, a little slurred. You manage to crawl to the edge.

The switch, as it turns out, is as small as a normal alarm clock, positioned at eye level on the ledge. It's labeled "alarm on –– alarm off" so there could be no confusion. As a precaution, I toss the rope up to you, just in case the ledge disappears once the switch is flip. You catch it and get a good hold. You call over that you're ready. Smiling, mainly because I was unaware as to what was occurring above me, I go to flip the switch.

Then it buzzes and it seems even louder this close to the switch. I clamp one hand over my ear and use the other to quickly flip the switch. The sound ends abruptly. Just as I had guessed, the ledge slides back into the cliff side. As I slowly lose grip on the ledge, I'm praying that you have a good enough hold on the rope. Similarly, you're praying I don't weigh too much (ouch. Thanks for that). My feet slip loose and I'm dangling in the air while you're straining with your grip above me.

As it turns out, we don't need to worry too much. A hovercraft appears above us and two claws descend to take us both up into it.

Solid floor comes beneath my feet and I sink to it in relief and kiss it for good measure. You're shaken. Wheatitch appears, looking as sulky as ever.

"What's going on?" you ask.

"There's been a rebellion. We're taking you out for safety."

"So wait… was that was the switch did?" I ask, ceasing my kissing of the floor.

Wheatitch nods and explains, "Actually, that took off the force field around the arena so we could come rescue you."

"I'm still confused," I say, untying the rope from around me.

"Well–"

I shoot up in my bed, suddenly awake. An arm's length away, my alarm clock is buzzing. I look around. That couldn't have all been a dream.

I'm wrong. You appear in the doorway, wearing a hospital gown and wielding a syringe. I notice – a little belatedly – I'm wearing one too. Unsteadily, you stagger over to my bedside, looking a little deranged. I'm about to ask what's going on, when you start weeping.

"This is for you buddy!" you sob, brandishing the syringe above your head.

"Whoa! Whoa!" I shout, realizing what you're about to do. "I'm all right! I'm fine!"

You hesitate long enough for me to yank the syringe from your grasp and throw it across the room.

"You haven't been taken by the Lower Case?" you asked, nonplussed.

"No… Have you?"

Before you can answer, a talking Zebra appears and says, "I'm just as confused as you are Kevin."


End file.
